Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Deflating, I fall flat on my feet and take a step back, blowing a long breath out my nose.
The concentration on Milo’s face elicits hundreds of questions. I’m sure none of which he’ll answer if I ask him. But I try anyway. “Is Rae your girlfriend?”
“She’s Ty’s sister.”
“Who’s Ty?”
Milo chuckles. “Wow. You know nothing about Fletcher’s business dealings.”
“I know you’re his right-hand man. I know he owns ranches and some solar company, yet he still drills for oil. He owns movie theaters and a chain of restaurants that sell chicken. I hate eating chicken, coincidentally. Does Ty have something to do with chickens? There must be more than just what’s in the coop behind your barn.”
Milo laughs some more. “Ty is the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound guy who’s always one step ahead of Fletcher. He’s his bodyguard.”
“Ken? Fletcher’s bodyguard’s name is Ken.”
“Ken Tyson. Everyone calls him Ty,” Milo says.
“Well, that’s weird.”
“It’s known, not weird. Well-known.” Milo tucks his fingers into his front pockets.
“Not to me,” I mumble.
I wasn’t jealous when I saw him having sex with the woman in the barn, but Rae was different. She wasn’t naked. He hadn’t reduced her to a quick fuck next to a horse stall. In some ways, I feel like walking in on them having coffee, her sitting on his counter, was more intimate than fucking around next to Ranger.
“Rae has mad sewing skills like Ruthie had. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I no longer have missing buttons on my shirts.”
“Sorry, I hadn’t noticed missing buttons, so it’s highly unlikely I’d notice mended ones. Was she your girlfriend two nights ago when you kissed me? How old is she?”
“Girl and friend. Not girlfriend. And she’s twenty-three. Are you done asking questions?”
“Is it serious?” I ask since I can’t let it go. Milo is eight years older than me. Sure, a brother of sorts, but I don’t like that comparison. I should be happy for him. He deserves something for himself. Fletcher takes advantage of him at every turn. How have I forgotten that he was eighteen when Ruthie died? Do I have what it takes to care for a ten-year-old like Milo looked out for me? The way he fed me. Drove me to school. And let me hug him like a security blanket at night. Milo has always been exactly what I needed him to be. That deserves something, I suppose.
“Does she know about Jolene?” I take several steps backward and sit on the stairs.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t, Milo. I don’t care about Jolene or Rae or … the random women you screw. I care about you.”
His Adam’s apple bobs before he drops his gaze. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Say you care about me too.”
He flinches. “You know I do.”
“Did you want to do more than kiss me the other night?”
“Indie …”
“It’s just a question. Like … if you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? Doesn’t mean you’ll go there.” I hug my knees, praying for an honest answer from him.
Milo blinks several times, expression unreadable. “Well, there you have it. You just answered both questions yourself.”
I squint at him. What’s that supposed to mean?
He turns and opens the front door.
“Hey. You have to tell me what you mean.” I stand.
With his back to me, he slowly shakes his head. “If I could go anywhere in the world, Indie … it would be inside of you.”
Click.
The door shuts behind him.
My lips part. My heart thrashes out of control. And my feet want to chase him.
However, I can’t move because his confession weighs more than my car. I’ll never breathe again.
9
THE UNCROSSABLE LINE
MILO
Indiana is my death row.
I don’t know when it happened. She was a young girl. I felt protective of her. Fletcher and Ruthie always trusted me with her. And that meant a lot. Then I blinked. I can’t recall whether it was a slow or long blink. All I know was that she wasn’t a young girl when my eyes opened.
Indie is a woman.
As hard as I try to envision the young girl, I can’t. I didn’t steal her from her mama. I didn’t buy her for a million dollars. I’m not her father. I’m not her brother. There are so many things I am not.
But her?
Every cell in my body, every thought in my head, every fiber of my being tells me she’s mine. Fletcher has unknowingly stolen her from me, or maybe he stole her for me.
I spend the day traveling long hours to check in on Fletcher’s businesses. He has his fucking hand in everything, and it’s my job to make sure no one tries to cut off said greedy hand.
It’s after eight by the time I pull onto the Ellington ranch. The second I open the front door and reach for my hat to remove it, I realize the floor lamp is on. And Indie’s asleep on the sofa with an open book hugged to her chest. Lips slightly parted.